


From Unexpected Places

by MrMich



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: And their electronics, BAMF Stiles, Gen, Mutants, Stiles Takes Care Of The Pack, Superpowers, Technopathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4955221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMich/pseuds/MrMich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a technopath.<br/>It makes daily life easier.</p><p>(It makes saving everyone easier, too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scott

Stiles was picking Scott up a training session at the preserve, and he had left his jeep along the side of a trail for only a moment to hunt Scott down and collect him, but when he had finally located Scott and brought him to the place he had parked, Betty was gone.

It took them five minutes to find the powder blue jeep, and Stiles was visibly frustrated by the time they found her.

“I’m being serious this time, Betty. Stop playing games with me and stay where I parked you!” Stiles jabbed a finger at his jeep. “Don’t make me put the parking brake on. Because I will, and don’t you doubt that for a second!”

Scott, long used to Stiles’s quirks, just looked at him. “Hey, buddy? I don’t want to rush your rant or anything, but can you hurry up? Allison expects me to be at her house in ten minutes, so we need to get a move on.”


	2. Derek

The pack had all slept over at the rebuilt Hale house, and Derek had been woken up by the soft thud of someone down the stairs. He listened to the heartbeat for a few seconds before figuring that it was Stiles. 

Derek waited a few minutes before rolling out of his bed and padding into the kitchen, where he found Stiles cooing to the coffee machine.

“You make my mornings, you know that? You’re the reason I can wake up and go through my day. You make the absolute best coffee, even better than those machines that professionals use.”

Derek crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. “Do you tell that to every coffee machine you use?”

Stiles glared at Derek and rushed to reassure the coffee machine. “He didn’t mean that, he just doesn’t know that you’re my favorite. Don’t listen to a word he says - it’s all lies!”

Derek just raised an eyebrow and left the kitchen, leaving behind Stiles’s murmured placations to the coffee machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, these chapters are going to get longer as they go on. A lot longer.
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated!


	3. Erica

Erica walked up to Stiles with a worn laptop bag and a skeptical look on her face.  
“So, Batman, I’ve been having issues with my computer, and when I took it to the specialist repair store, they said nothing was wrong with it, but that if it kept fritzing out on me I should talk to you.” She waved her arms as if to say ‘So here I am’.

Stiles held out his hands and Erica reluctantly gave him her laptop bag. He pulled out her computer and booted it up, looking it over as if he was searching for something in particular. Once it was started up, he started sifting through some files, occasionally nodding as he did. Erica was glancing over his shoulder as he was fiddling with her computer, slightly put off by how silent he was. Normally he would be nattering on and on about everything that came to mind, but he was completely focused on Erica’s laptop. 

After a while, he did start to talk, but not to her. He started posing questions to her computer and acting as though he was getting responses, nodding and humming more as each minute passed. 

This continued for a little longer before he carefully closed the lid of her laptop and handed it back to her with some advice: “If you’re in the same room as Boyd when he’s using his laptop, don’t shop for shoes so much. Maybe you could watch MMA videos or something.”

Erica narrowed her eyes. “What does that have to do with anything? Shouldn’t you be doing actual work on it?”

Stiles just shrugged. “Just try it out. If everything’s still going haywire, I’ll take another look.”


	4. Isaac

Isaac was walking up to Erica and Boyd, looking sadly at his iPod. It was a beat up old thing, a second generation Nano, but he didn’t have the heart to replace it or throw it away.

Erica narrowed her eyes at the outdated piece of tech, knowing well enough that it was the cause of Isaac’s distress. “Did that piece of shit finally up and die on you?” she asked.

Isaac cradled his iPod to his chest and glared at Erica. “Take that back! Jay is not a piece of shit!”

Erica snorted. “Whatever you say, Isaac. If you really feel the need to save that thing, go to Stiles. He has some weird ass magic touch thing with technology - he has fix-it suggestions that make no sense but actually work.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow. “You mean like using peanut butter or toothpaste to smooth out scratches kind of strange?”

“Like telling me to watch MMA videos instead of shopping for shoes when I’m in the same room as Boyd when he’s using his laptop strange.”

“No, seriously, what did he actually say?” Isaac laughed.

Erica just looked at him. “I am being serious. That’s exactly what he told me. And it _worked_.”

Isaac blinked. “Huh. Well, if I run into Stiles, I’ll ask him if he has any crazy advice for me.” It wasn’t the weirdest thing to happen to them. After all, _werewolves_.

 

When Isaac saw Stiles in the locker rooms after lacrosse practice was over, he walked up to him with his battered iPod nestled in his hands.

“Hey, Stiles? My iPod’s not doing so well. Erica said you could probably fix it up somehow.”

Stiles took the iPod from Isaac’s outstretched hands, looking it over from all angles, running his fingers over the edges, and holding it to his ear. He mumbled to himself through the entire process, the words incomprehensible even to werewolf ears, before sucking in a breath and telling Isaac, “Man, it’s getting pretty old. I think the only way to help it might be to replace the display. If you can get someone to do that, it should be working again.”

Isaac looks bewildered. “How do you know that’s the problem? There aren’t any signs that the display is the issue.”

Stiles just smiled and shrugged. “I’m good at what I do,” he said, and jogged out of the locker room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated my poor old iPod nano, who is now 9 and a half years old and very much lovingly used (I adore him more than my laptop and phone combined)


	5. Lydia

When Lydia came to school one morning with death in her eyes and the faint smell of burnt hair around her, everyone knew to avoid her like the black plague. Everyone except Stiles, apparently. Even though he had gotten over his years long crush on her, he still had a certain amount of affection for her, and felt the need to calm her down. Even if it was really for the sake of everyone else. (He got tired of seeing all the girls running into the bathroom with makeup streaked down their faces, okay?)

He sidled up to her, not even trying to be subtle. “Hey, Lyds! What’s with the slow murder with your eyes? Not that I think you’re actually going to slowly murder someone! Hopefully.”

She turned her glare towards him. “What do you _think_ is the matter, Stiles?” she hissed. “Did your nose decide not to work today? My fucking hair dryer burned my hair for the fourth time! I’m ready to get rid of that useless scrap of junk at this point!”

Stiles blinked. “Okay. This? This, I can fix. Can you bring your hair dryer to me tomorrow? I can get this all sorted out, and I promise it won’t burn your hair anymore.”

Lydia looked sharply at him. Stiles grinned widely, waiting for her answer. She finally sighed, the fury leaving her. “Fine. I’ll give it to you before school, okay? But you better know how to fix it, otherwise I’m tossing it out.” She stalked away, still obviously in a bad mood, but much improved from when Stiles first approached her.

 

****  
The next morning at school, Lydia cornered Stiles and practically shoved her hair dryer into his hands. It looked worn and at least five years old, but also well cared for. Stiles took the hair dryer and walked a few feet away from Lydia, twisting it back and forth in his hands. At one point he turned around and asked her “Did you have any plans to replace this hair dryer before it started burning your hair?”

Lydia narrowed her eyes at him. “No. But I was planning on buying Allison one. Would you believe that girl doesn’t own a hair dryer?” she sniffed.

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned back to the hair dryer, muttering something. Lydia strained her ears and was able to make out part of what he’d said. “- jealous for nothing. Lydia wouldn’t replace -” At that moment, Allison walked up to Lydia, asking about the chemistry homework. Lydia quickly shushed her, but Stiles was already walking up to the two girls, hair dryer stretched out like an offering.

“It shouldn’t cause any more trouble for you, Lyds. If it does, call me up, okay?”

As Stiles began to walk away, Lydia called him back. “Wait, Stiles! What did you even do to it?”

Stiles turned around and smiled gently at her. “I just listened to it. Sometimes all anyone needs is someone who will listen to them.”

**  
**After he had left, Lydia turned back to Allison. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”


	6. Jackson

After school found Jackson swearing and complaining at his Porsche.

 Stiles walked out of the school and into the parking lot, almost getting into his jeep before he registered Jackson shouting and kicking at his car. Immediately,  Stiles strode angrily towards Jackson and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around mid kick.

 "What the hell's your problem, dipshit?" He hissed.

 Jackson narrowed his eyes at Stiles. “It was probably you. What did you do to my car!?”

 “I didn’t have to do anything to your car, dumbass! Did you ever even think that going off road in a porsche would have some consequences? I feel bad for your car! It has to deal with such an idiotic driver!” Stiles fumed, getting visibly angrier.

 Jackson sneered at him, “How the fuck did you even know I went off road? Are you following me?” He suddenly smirked. “What do you think your dad would say if I filed for another restraining order?”

 Stiles clenched his fist, ready to take a swing at Jackson, when Scott appeared and grabbed his arm and turned on his puppy dog eyes. “Come on, Stiles. He’s not worth your time. Let’s just go.”

 Stiles grit his teeth and shook off Scott’s arm before turning around and moving back toward his jeep. “Fine, but I make no promises for next time I see that asshole’s face.”

 As soon as they both got into the car, Scott turned to Stiles, “Okay, dude, what the hell was that? You were kind of overreacting back there, Stiles.”

 Stiles sighed heavily and rested his head on the steering wheel. “I know, Scott. He just treats his car so badly though, and it deserves so much better.” He picked his head up and looked at Scott. “He’s also just a huge jackass,” he added.

 Scott smiled at him, “That’s something we can both agree on.”

 Feeling a little better, Stiles smiled back at Scott and started up the jeep.

 


	7. Boyd

Boyd went directly up to Stiles during lunch, holding a laptop case casually in his hands. He placed it carefully on the table and said, "Erica said you could help me out." before walking away.

Stiles immediately turned to Scott, who was sitting next to him. "Do I look like some kind of IT center? Is there a sign on my back that says 'Why yes! I _can_ help you with all of your technological needs!' I should just start charging people money for my help," he complained.

Scott looked at Stiles with amusement.  "Stiles, you're taking out the laptop."

Stiles frowned at Scott. "Yeah, so?"

" _So_ , maybe if you stopped fixing things for everyone free of charge, they wouldn't bother you anymore. Did you think of that?"

Stiles snorted. "I could never just leave them alone for some idiot to mess around with. They'd probably be irreparably damaged if I did." He focused on at Boyd's laptop. "Now, let's see what's bugging you."

Stiles booted up the computer, Scott watching over his shoulder as the screen settled on the account login, the cursor blinking rapidly in the blank password box. Scott groaned, “Great. I can’t believe that Boyd forgot to tell you the password. Want me to go track him down for you?” Stiles was barely paying any attention to him, staring at the login screen, and just hummed and bobbed his head distractedly as Scott left to find the other werewolf.

It was about five minutes later that Scott came back to the lunch table, with Boyd trailing silently behind, only for the two of them to find Stiles already logged in and flashing through files.

Scott slumped down next to Stiles. “Come on, man! You mean I went to all that trouble to find Boyd, only to discover that he already told it to you? If I didn’t know better, I’d think that you didn’t want me around!” he said, mock seriously before breaking out into a crooked grin.

Stiles only grinned back at him as Boyd frowned in the background. “I didn’t give you my password, Stiles. How did you get in?” he said.

Stiles looked at Boyd, still grinning, “Sorry, dude, but it wasn’t actually that hard to do. Maybe you’ll want to pick a better password next time. One that’s a little less easy to guess.” he shuffled the computer around and handed it back to Boyd. “There was a dormant virus in there, it could have gotten nasty, but I got rid of it in time. So you should be good on that front. Considering other things though, since you and Erica spend pretty much every weekend together at Derek’s, you should charge your computers next to each other. It’ll make both of them function better in the long run!” He turned to Scott. “Come on, Scotty Boy! We’ve gotta go talk to Finstock about Saturday’s game.”

****  
  



	8. Allison

Allison was hunched over the lunch table, clearly frustrated about something and just as clearly taking her anger out on the camera she had to use for her photography class. 

Stiles slid into the seat next to her. “Whoa there, Allison. Let’s not be so mean to the poor camera, okay? Cameras have feelings, too.”

She laughed at Stiles and rolled her eyes, anger dissipating slightly. “Very funny, Stiles. But if any camera deserves it, it’s this one. It’s a useless piece of junk,” She said, as she picked it up and held it a few inches above the table before dropping it back down to the table. Stiles winced.

“It can’t be that bad. Maybe you should just… try a little differently? Without throwing it around this time?” he suggested.

Allison rolled her eyes again, this time in exasperation. “It wouldn’t help, Stiles. This camera is a piece of shit.” 

Stiles stretched out a hand. “Let me see it. Maybe there’s something I can do.”

Allison huffed. “If you could manage that, it would be great.” She practically threw the camera at him, and he fumbled with it, trying desperately not to drop it.

Once it was secure in his hands, he held it close to his chest and gave her a look. “Okay. That right there? That was not okay. You can’t just toss a fragile piece of technology around like that. You have to be more careful with it, treat it like you’re Cinderella and this is your glass slipper. Once you start taking care of it and are gentle with it, it will make all the difference in your photos.”

Allison raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Just like that?”

Stiles nodded. “Just like that. I promise.” He carefully handed the camera back to Allison, who still grasped it just a little too tightly with both hands, but was holding it consciously.

Stiles grinned proudly at her.


	9. Danny

Danny had started it.

**  
** The first move was made when Danny started switching the orange juice he  knows Stiles drinks every morning with some weird carrot and cheddar cheese blend.

Stiles would not take that lying down. From there, the prank war escalated from oreos with toothpaste inside them instead of cream to lifesaver mints in the shower heads to caramel covered onions rather than apples. The entire pack was miserable, having been caught in the crossfire more than once.

But this was going too far, and Stiles was drawing the line. 

Nobody touched Betty, and yet Danny decided to stick cotton balls on her so that she resembled a fuzzy yeti more than the beautiful blue jeep she normally was.

Stiles decided that this called for more than the normal level of retaliation and arrived at school earlier than usual, hanging around each one of the fire alarms for a few minutes. By the time the rest of the pack got there, Stiles was loitering by the front doors with a wide smile on his face, and the pack felt a collective shudder of apprehension as he approached them. 

Stiles walked straight up to Danny and slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close despite the fact that Danny was trying to subtly wiggle out of his grasp, and half dragged Danny into the building just in time for the fire alarm to go off.

There was a mad rush as students were trying to leave the school, tumbling into and pushing past students on their way into the building. It was complete chaos. As Stiles and Danny were swept along by the wave of panicked students, Danny chanced a look at Stiles. **  
**

He looked maniacally gleeful.

****  
  
It took a while for everything to calm down, but eventually the firemen declared everything was fine and the students were shuffled reluctantly into the building. As the pack passed through the doors, the fire alarm at the front of the building suddenly spat blue ink at Danny and started shrieking, the sound echoing throughout the building. Most of the students, who had already made their way inside, groaned, and turned around to file back through the doors. Everyone was calmer now, certain that there was no danger of being burned.

Danny looked startled by the blue that was now staining his shirt before having a moment of realization. He slowly turned to look at Stiles, who’s grin had become impossibly wider and crazier than before. 

One of the teachers noticed the bright blue ink on Danny’s shirt, and made a beeline towards him, glaring disapprovingly. The teacher came up to the pack and grabbed Danny by the arm, dragging him towards the principal’s office and only giving him enough time to mouth “I hate you so much right now” at Stiles.

Danny ended up not getting in trouble, but only because he managed to talk them into watching the security feed, where it was obvious that he didn’t pull the alarm.

He also, however, got dismissed from school for a week because no one could figure out how to get the fire alarms to stop going off whenever he came into a three foot radius of them.

**  
** Later that night, at the Hale house, Danny cornered Stiles, “Okay, I want to know how you did that thing with the fire alarms.”

Stiles tried to smile innocently at Danny, but was obviously restraining his laughter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe the alarms just thought that you were ‘smoking’ hot?”

  **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Things may be a little slow for another week or so. 
> 
> I hate finals week.


End file.
